Chapter 2: Tiny Robot Fight Club
Nine minutes had passed in what felt like nine seconds to Cid.
He'd wandered the mock city at his usual lazy stroll, shrinking anything that looked at him funny and flicking the occasional pebble-turned-boulder when a group of robots got too close. By the time Present Mic's voice boomed across the battlefield—"ONE MINUTE REMAINING!"—Cid had already racked up a casual 100 villain points. He'd also casually saved four different students along the way: shrinking a collapsing wall off one girl, enlarging a chunk of rubble to block a 3-pointer from crushing another, and stepping on two tiny bots that had cornered a panicked guy in an alley. He just shrugged and kept walking like it was no big deal.
The ground started shaking. The zero-pointer erupted from the far end of the street like a metal kaiju—fifty feet of screaming hydraulics and glowing red eyes, smashing through buildings as it charged straight down the main road.
Students screamed and scattered.
Cid stopped in the middle of the street, hands still in his hoodie pockets, and looked up.
"Huh. There's the big guy."
He waited until it was only twenty yards away then...
"Command T: Shrink."
The effect was instant and ridiculous.
The towering behemoth collapsed in on itself like someone had hit a reverse growth button. Fifty feet became 2 inches in under two seconds. The zero-pointer landed on the pavement with a soft *clink*. Now no bigger than a fancy action figure—small enough to sit comfortably in Cid's palm, its tiny claws barely the size of toothpicks, red eyes still faintly glowing like angry LEDs.
Cid crouched, plucked it up between thumb and forefinger, and held it right in front of his face.
"…Oh."
Disappointment hit him like a wet sock.
"That's it? I can just shrink it like everything else." He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Man, I really thought the giant one would be different. Lame."
He started to stand—then froze.
The tiny zero-pointer wobbled in his hand. One of its micro-claws moved. It looked… kinda adorable.
Cid's visible eye went wide. A slow, genuine grin spread across his face as the switch in his brain flipped to full hyper-focus. Stars practically sparkled in his right eye.
"Wait… waitwaitwait."
He set the shrunken zero-pointer gently on his open palm like a new pet. Then, without missing a beat, he glanced at two nearby one-pointers that had just rounded the corner.
"Command T: Shrink."
"Command T: Shrink."
Both bots instantly shrank down to the same two-inch size. Cid scooped them up too, now cradling three tiny robots in his hands like he'd just won the world's best arcade prizes.
"Oh man… this is awesome."
He sat right there on the curb, completely ignoring the final thirty seconds of the exam and the chaos still happening around him. He gently poked the zero-pointer's head with one finger. It wobbled cutely.
"I could keep you guys… set up a little arena out of shoeboxes in my dorm… tiny robot fight club. You three could have tournaments. I'd sell tickets to the class. Winner gets… extra oil? Or whatever robots like, "Ten bucks on the zero-pointer, he's got reach"!" he laughed at his own joke.
He was full-on muttering now, voice getting more excited with every word, the usual lazy calm replaced by pure giddy focus.
"Imagine the bets. We could do weekly matches. I'd be the referee. This is the real reason I came to UA for fun."
Present Mic's voice suddenly blasted again: "TIME'S UP! EVERYONE STOP FIGHTING!"
Cid blinked, looked down at the three mini-robots in his hands, then shrugged like the timer had personally offended him.
"Eh. Still a good exam."
He slipped all three tiny robots into his hoodie pocket (the zero-pointer's head poking out just enough to peek over the edge like a curious kitten) and stood up, stretching as the other students started heading for the exit.
Most students were already trudging toward the main gate, sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. Cid, however, had one last sneaky idea.
While everyone else was distracted, he glanced at three more robots that had wandered too close to the exit path — a 1-pointer, a 2-pointer, and a 3-pointer. No one was looking his way.
He didn't say a word. Just a lazy flick of his visible right eye and three silent mental commands.
*Shrink.*
All three collapsed down to 2-inch size in the blink of an eye. Cid scooped them up like it was the most natural thing in the world, slipped them into his hoodie pocket with the others, and kept walking like nothing happened.
*Six little buddies now. Perfect starter collection.*
---
High above in the observation room, Nezu's ears perked up as he leaned closer to one of the audio feeds. On the main screen, Cid was casually pocketing the extra shrunken robots, clearly thinking he was being stealthy.
The principal's beady eyes sparkled with pure amusement.
"Oh my… he's collecting them."
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No, no. Quite the opposite." Nezu tilted his head, tail swishing. The hidden mics in the mock city picked up Cid's quiet muttering as he walked.
"…gonna need a bigger shoebox for the arena… zero-pointer can be the champ… maybe paint numbers on their backs… tiny robot fight club….. this is gonna be awesome."
Nezu listened for three full seconds… then burst into a high-pitched, delighted cackle that made half the teachers jump.
"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!" He clapped his tiny paws together. "I have the most marvelous idea for later. This boy is going to be so much fun."
---
Cid reached the exit gate, still muttering happily under his breath about tournament brackets and "maybe a referee bell made from a bottle cap." He was just about to step through when—
"HEY! That was SO COOL!"
A pair of floating white gloves and a floating school uniform suddenly appeared right in front of him, bouncing on invisible toes.
Cid blinked once. Then twice.
The floating clothes clapped excitedly. "The way you just stepped on those robots like they were nothing! And the pebbles turning into boulders?! And then you picked up the zero-pointer like it was a toy! I've never seen anything like that! What's your Quirk called? How does it even work? Can you shrink people too? Wait, do you have a hero name yet?!"
Cid nodded along slowly, head tilted, visible eye half-lidded in his usual calm. "Mhm… yeah… Command T… line of sight… sure… not yet…"
He paused mid-nod, staring straight at the floating outfit.
"Ummmm… I'm not talking to a ghost right now, am I?"
The floating gloves froze for half a second… then the empty sleeves clutched at the invisible stomach as bright, bubbly laughter spilled out.
"Nooo! Oh my gosh, that's the best reaction ever!" The gloves wiped away invisible tears. "I'm just invisible! My name's Toru Hagakure! Nice to meet you, Eyepatch Guy!"
Cid's shoulders relaxed. A tiny, lazy grin tugged at his mouth. "Cid Kageno. And… cool. Was worried for a second."
Toru fell into step beside him as they walked out through the gate together, her floating uniform bouncing with every excited step.
The two of them kept walking toward the main school building, one lazy and unbothered, the other a bundle of floating energy, chatting the whole way like they'd known each other for years.
---
Cid and Toru parted ways at the main gate with a casual wave and her promise to "text you about the fight club later, okay?!" (he'd accidentally given her his number without thinking). He watched the floating uniform disappear into the crowd, then turned toward home with his hands back in his hoodie pockets and six tiny robots quietly tucked inside.
The walk was short. Ten minutes of quiet streets, the afternoon sun warm on his back. He didn't speed up once.
When he reached the small two-story house on the edge of the residential district, he slid the key in, pushed the door open, and called out like always.
"I'm home."
Silence answered.
He stood in the genkan for a second, listening to the empty air. A tired little sigh slipped out — the same sigh he'd been making for three years now. He was used to it. Didn't mean he liked it.
Cid kicked off his shoes and padded inside. The house was neat, but not lived-in neat. The kind of neat that came from one person who didn't make much mess to begin with.
In the hallway he paused by the small shelf. An old framed photo sat there, a little dusty from the week he'd been too lazy to wipe it. Younger Cid — maybe ten years old — grinned between two adults who could have been his older siblings if you didn't look too close. Same messy dark hair on the man, same calm eyes on the woman. Family resemblance ran deep.
He reached out, picked the frame up gently with both hands, and wiped the glass with the sleeve of his hoodie. It was already clean. He did it anyway. Habit. Always had been.
"Looking good, guys," he muttered under his breath, voice soft. He set the photo back exactly where it belonged, angled just right so the light hit their faces in the evening.
Then he kept walking.
The fridge hummed in the quiet kitchen. Cid opened it, stared at the half-empty shelves like they were a puzzle, and pulled out leftover rice, two eggs, and a pack of green onions. He made tamagoyaki and warmed the rice in the microwave — nothing fancy, nothing that took more than ten minutes. He ate standing at the counter, chopsticks in one hand, staring out the window at the empty backyard.
The tiny robots in his pocket shifted slightly when he moved. One of them let out a faint mechanical whir.
Cid glanced down, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, tired smile.
"At least I've got company tonight."
He finished the last bite, rinsed the plate, and left it in the drying rack. The house stayed quiet around him.
'By the end of the week the acceptance letter will probably show up.' Tonight, though, it was just him, the photo in the hall, and six tiny robots waiting for their fight club.
Cid flicked off the kitchen light and headed upstairs.
"Night, Mom. Night, Dad."
The silence followed him all the way to his room.